


Risking It All, Though It's Hard

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Chapter 1 is angst, Chapter 2 is violence, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, chapter 3 is, john legend lyrics that are actually pretty significant, keith puts trust in lance and lance takes care of him, very very minor galra keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-08-15 03:00:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8039869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “I really care about him.” He’s never said it before, not even to himself. But when the words leave his mouth he knows they’re true. “It doesn’t matter how dangerous it is. I don’t give a quiznak, I-I have to save Keith.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally supposed to be a one-shot but i split it up into three parts for multiple reasons. Plus, it'll help me get used to writing multi-chaptered fics!  
> thanks again to theotpeffect for helping me with this! (and also for not letting me make it /too/ dark.)  
> (It's still dark though.)  
> but there's fluff at the end so hopefully it's worth it

“Why hasn’t he come back yet?” Pidge asks. Everyone is standing in the hangar, anxiety gripping their hearts because four lions stare down at them. Only four.

“Lance, try the com again.” Shiro tells him.

“I’ve already tried three times, he hasn’t answered.”

“Try again.”

Lance sighs and puts his helmet back on again. “Keith? You there?” Quiet static. The others look at him apprehensively, and when he shakes his head they visibly deflate.

“You don’t think…” Hunk whispers fearfully, “The Galra got him…?”

Shiro places his hand on Hunk’s shoulder. “Don’t jump to conclusions, I’m sure he’s fine.” Hunk nods shakily, not seeming convinced.

“I thought we got every single Galra ship.” Pidge says, seemingly speaking more to herself than the others. “He was right behind us too, there’s no way-”

“Wait!” Hunk exclaims, a wide smile spreading on his face. “There he is.” He points upwards.

The red lion appears, gradually descending into the hangar. A few relieved sighs and mutters scatter through the group.

“Thank the stars…” Allura says. She approaches the red lion. “Keith?”

No sound comes from the lion but it shifts slowly down into a crouch, dropping its head onto its front paws. Something is definitely wrong. Out of the corner of his eye, Lance sees Pidge and Hunk exchange a look.

“Why is it doing that?” Shiro asks. He moves towards the lion but Allura is already climbing up its side. Everyone stares as she slowly opens the entrance to the cockpit.

A startled gasp falls from her lips.

“What?” Lance hears himself asks. “What’s wrong?”

Allura looks frozen. In a trembling voice, she answers, “There’s just… blood…”

“What?” Shiro demands.

“It’s everywhere…” She continues.

Then Lance hears it. It crackles through his communicator, sudden and loud. Mixed in with the static, agonized screams fill his ears and he rips off his helmet, throws it on the ground. The sickening sounds fill the room.

“No, no, no, no…” Hunk shrinks back from the helmet, as if burned. Pidge doesn’t say anything, fixed in her spot. Just as soon as they’d started, the sounds cut off suddenly and returns to static.

“Keith…” Lance whispers.

“Everyone just stay calm.” Shiro instructs, his jaw set tightly. “We’ll figure something out-”

Lance whips his gaze to him, fear boiling over into anger. “Stay calm?!” He screams, giving Shiro a harsh shove. “We have to go back now, you fuck! He’s going to die if we don’t go back!” Lance grabs the black paladin’s collar. Allura grabs him before he can throw a punch, ripping him away from a stunned Shiro.

It takes her soft voice and gentle expression to calm him down. “We don’t where he is.” The princess tells him softly, “They could have taken him anywhere.”

Lance stares at the ground, feeling like he’s been kicked in the stomach.

-

“How long do you think we’ll have to wait?” Pidge asks into the fabric of Lance’s sleeve. They’re both curled up against Hunk on the couch in the lounge room.

“Allura said as soon as we got coordinates for the ship, but…” Hunk trails off. Lance hears what his silence says: _that could take a long time._ Hunk clears his throat and pats the blue paladin on the back. “You okay, Lance? You’ve been really quiet.”

Lance sighs and presses his face into Pidge’s hair. “I’m fine.” He mumbles. He doesn’t even try to sound convincing.

“We’ll get him back.” Pidge whispers.

Shiro steps into the room. He looks tired, but then again they all are. “You three should eat something.” He says softly.

“Not hungry.” Pidge replies.

The black paladin walks over to the group and sits down. “I know you’re all worried. I am too, but you have to be strong. He would want you to take care of yourselves.”

Lance wants to be angry at that. He wants to accuse Shiro of trying to manipulate them or something, anything to give him an excuse to scream. Lance can’t though, because Shiro is right.

“I’m sorry I tried to punch you.” Lance whispers.

A warm hand rests on his shoulder. “It’s fine. Now, come on. Coran made lunch.”

Pidge untangles herself from the cuddle pile first, smoothing her shirt down before walking out. When Lance stands, Hunk practically has to hold him upright. His legs feel too weak to carry him by himself.

“I got you, buddy.” Hunk says reassuringly as Lance leans into him. Shiro gives them a worried glance but says nothing as the three of them exit the room.

As promised, there are plates of food goo already set on the table. Just four. Lance sits, slumping immediately into the chair. He looks down as his plate and then to the empty chair on his left. Keith would usually be sitting there. They always sit next to each other, always. No, not always, not now. Pidge then sits in the chair and Lance tears his eyes away.

“Eat up.” Coran says, a little too cheerfully, “You’ll need your strength!”

Lance doesn’t mean for his voice to break when he says, “Thanks.” Shiro, from the other side of the table, gives him that same worried glance. It makes his stomach curl.

Pidge begins to eat hers first, slowly. Hunk picks at his, probably just too be polite, but he doesn’t seem hungry. Lance eats his without tasting anything. Nobody talks.

They eat in silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Then Allura’s voice comes over the castle’s speakers, panicked and loud. “Come to the command room! All of you, quickly!”

“Allura!” Shiro exclaims, jumping out of his chair. Lance scrambles up, accidentally bumping into Pidge, and follows him and Coran out the door. Allura keeps yelling at them to hurry while they run down the hallway.

Coran shoves open the doors to the command room, the paladins pushing at him to get in. “Princess, are you…”He trails off.

From Allura’s terrified shouting, Lance had expected her to be hurt or something. But she’s perfectly fine, untouched and facing away from them. She’s staring at the giant screen.

It’s not a face Lance’s knows, but it’s familiar all the same. Grinning down at them all, purple fur and sharp fangs, a cruel glint in the yellow eyes.

“Greetings, paladins of Voltron.”

“Where’s Keith?!” Pidge demands.

“Don’t worry, child.” The Galran purrs, honeyed-venom lacing his every word. “You’ll see your friend soon enough. Hopefully you can still recognize him.”

“What?” Shiro takes a step forward. “What did you do to him?”

The Galran grins. Then the video cuts to something else and Lance chokes. Laying on the ground, still in his uniform, is Keith. Except, it’s not Keith. It couldn’t be because Keith doesn’t have purple skin, or large ears. When he cracks open his eyes they’re yellow, not the dark cobalt that Lance sees in his dreams.

But if it weren’t him Hunk wouldn’t be crying. Allura wouldn’t be covering her mouth, too shocked to speak. Pidge wouldn’t be shouting, “You bastards! You fucking bastards!”

Keith coughs weakly, moves his head to the left. Blood trickles down his chin, dripping into the pool underneath his body. There’s an awkward bend to his arm and If not for the shallow rise and fall of his chest Lance would think he were dead.

“You have three days to surrender your lions.” The Galran says, “Or he dies.” Then the screen blinks out.

There’s a tense moment of silence before Pidge lets out an earsplitting shriek. Lance is jolted out of his stupor and hurries over to her. She’s bawling, eyes screwed shut and fists clenched at her side. When he wraps his arms around her, she immediately clings to him. Lance lets Pidge scream into his chest because even if he’s is upset she has to come first.

He steels himself and reaches an arm out to Hunk, whose tears are softer and quieter than Pidge’s. Then it’s the three of them holding each other and Lance remembers how young they all are. Too young.

“The transmission held the ship’s coordinates.” Allura says in a hushed tone, obviously meant for Shiro or Coran’s ears. Lance hears it anyways and tears himself away from his friends.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

Allura bites her lip. “Lance, we can’t just rush right in.”

“Why not?” He barely recognizes his own voice, so angry and desperate.

Shiro steps forward and cautiously places his hand- the one made of flesh and blood- on Lance’s shoulder. “It’s not safe. The Galra knew they were giving us their coordinates because that’s what they wanted. They’re setting a trap.”

Lance pulls away from Shiro’s touch, a nauseous feeling washing over him. “So what if it’s a trap? Don’t you care about Keith?”

“Of course we do.” Allura cuts in. She glances at the others briefly. “You all should leave, get rest. We’ll come up with a plan tomorrow. Coran, you stay.”

“Tomorrow?” Lance sputters. “No, but-”

“Lance.” Allura cuts him off. She gestures to the other paladins, who are confusedly shuffling out of the room. Shiro is the last to go, hesitating before following Hunk and Pidge.

Allura sighs and looks back at him with tired eyes. In the background, Coran stands awkwardly and stares at the floor. “Lance. You’re upset, and I understand that. Keith is my friend too. But if we go to him now we’ll be putting Voltron right into the Galra’s hands and we won’t be able to save him at all. The Galra could easily have taken him to Zarkon by now, but they’re waiting for us. We need to think of a safer way.”

Lance doesn’t say anything. He wants to argue further but he knows it’s a lost cause. Allura is the leader and she knows what’s best for the team. For Voltron.

“Okay.” He mumbles.

“Good.” The princess gives him a soft smile and tugs him in for a gentle hug. Lance stays in her embrace for a quiet moment before she pulls away. “Now get some sleep.”

At her words, the blue paladin nods and hurries out of the command room. So Voltron won’t go and rescue Keith tonight, but that’s fine.

Lance doesn’t need Voltron.

 

-

Lance waits until he’s sure everyone else is asleep and slips out of bed, into the dimly lit hallway. Passing by each room he stops and listens, only to hear soft breaths and quiet snoring. He moves along the walls, looking around every corridor in case someone else is awake.

The door to the armory opens with a soft hiss and a harsh light flashes on. Lance doesn’t look at the empty case, doesn’t want to think about how torn and blood-soaked that missing red suit is. The image is burned in his mind. He takes out his own. The first time he had put it on he was so naïve, full of giddiness and a desire for adventure.

The only thing Lance wants now is to get Keith back. He’ll do whatever it takes, he resolves as he puts on his helmet, even if that means having to kill every Galra soldier in the universe.

Lance searches the castle’s storage lockers next, grabbing whatever he might need. Water, blankets, bandages. He finds a container full of a clear liquid that Coran had described as an outdated form of Altean medicine. Lance doesn’t care if it’s old as fuck, it’s the best he’s got. He searches around for needles and syringes.

In the hangar, Lance loads his supplies into Blue’s cockpit.

“I’m going to save him.” He tells her in a determined voice. “I’ll take him back from those monsters and never let anyone hurt him again. He whispers an “I’ll be right back,” climbing down from his lion and patting her leg. He hurries out of the hangar.

The command room is next. Lance knows he can’t read Altean, and he’s not smart like Pidge or Hunk, but he’s going to figure this out. For Keith. He places his hands on the control panel and furrows his brow. He already knows the coordinates of the ship, but…

The castle is tied to Allura’s life force. For a dark moment Lance thinks that his plan has failed before it even began.

It’s possible though, that with Allura merely in the castle, it might still work. Coran managed to open a wormhole without the princess simply because enough of her life force was still present. But unlike him, Lance doesn’t know how to operate the castle. He’s not Altean.

Allura once had said something about the castle being able to sense energy and emotions, Lance remembers. Closing his eyes, he focuses. He thinks of dark eyes and a rare smile. He thinks of calloused hands and unfairly soft, black hair that he longs to touch. He thinks of the color red. He thinks, and he thinks, and he thinks and determination fills him.

Lance flashes his eyes open. In front of him, out the viewing window, is the wormhole. A surge of pride washes over him.

“Lance.”

The wormhole blinks out of existence. Lance whirls around, hand coming to rest on his Bayard.

Coran stands in the doorway. “Step away from the command panel.”

Lance doesn’t move. He’d been so close, so careful.

“Please think about what you’re doing.” He says, walking towards the paladin slowly. “I know you’re angry and you’re hurting, but you can’t put yourself in danger. You must wait until the princess has a plan.”

“No.” Lance grits his teeth. “I’m not waiting any longer. I’ll go whether or not you let me.”

A hard look passes over Coran’s features. “You could die, Lance. I’m sorry, but I won’t let you do this. I’m getting the princess.” He turns around and strides back towards the door.

“What about Alfor?”

Coran stops.

Lance swallows. “If you had a chance to go back and save Alfor, wouldn’t you?”

For a long moment Coran doesn’t respond, his posture guarded. Then his shoulders sag and he sighs. In a voice heavy with the weight of grief, “Yes, I… I suppose I would.”

“You understand, don’t you Coran?” Lance asks.

The Altean turns and looks at him again. “You’re really ready to risk your life for this?”

“I really care about him.” He’s never said it before, not even to himself. But when the words leave his mouth he knows they’re true. “It doesn’t matter how dangerous it is. I don’t give a quiznak, I-I have to save Keith.”

Coran shifts his gaze to the side. Lance can tell he’s struggling with the decision and prays to every alien deity he’s ever heard of that he’ll help him.

“I…” Coran trails off. “Very well.” He walks over to where Lance stands by the control panel and places his hands on it. “I’m amazed that you were able to open a wormhole by yourself.” He comments, reactivating it.

“Thanks, Coran.” Lance says in a small voice.

The Altean looks down at him with a sad smile. “Just be careful. Make sure you come back in one piece.”

Lance pulls him into a hug. Coran makes a startled sound, but after a moment, he sighs and pats the paladin’s back softly.

When they pull away, he clears his throat. “Well now, I suppose my current situation isn’t very favorable.”

“Yeah.” Lance picks up his Bayard. “Sorry, buddy.”

Coran nods. “I understand.” He kneels down on one knee and looks down. “Good luck.”

Lance raises his Bayard. He shuts his eyes before cracking the handle of his down on Coran’s head. The Altean slumps to the floor with a dull thud. It takes a few moments for Lance to open his eyes again. He bites his lip. He didn’t hurt Coran, only knocked him unconscious, but guilt still creeps us his spine. He runs out of the control room without looking back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is going to do whatever it takes to get Keith back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCK THIS TOOK A WHOLE MONTH TO UPDATE i am... so sorry....... but this chapter is longer and i hope the tender, intimate scene at the end makes up for it.  
> This chapter has descriptions of blood, injuries, and needles. If that stuff bothers you, hmu on my tumblr, bipolarred, and i'll give you the non-graphic scenes and a summary of what goes down.  
> The next chapter after this is gonna be pretty fluffy so

The wormhole spits Blue out in an area littered with asteroids. There isn’t a single planet in sight. Perfect place for the Galra to trap them, Lance thinks, but their plan won’t work today.

Lance flies through the asteroid belt, eyes trained ahead of him. The Galran ship shouldn’t be far away, and will no doubt be accompanied by dozens of fighter pilots. It doesn’t matter how many there are, Lance will take on every single one of them.

Something streaks past him and Lance jolts, swinging his gaze to it. Galra. His confidence is replaced with a sudden and crushing fear. He’s alone. He’s alone without his teammates and about to go up against-

“No.” Lance grits his teeth, pushing his fears down. “No, no, no. Keith.” He grips the steer tightly and Blue speeds up, gliding towards the small fighter. Lance hopes it hasn’t seen him yet and will lead him right to the main ship where Keith is.

Of course it isn’t that easy. The fighter ship turns towards him before he can even finish his thought and blasts a laser at him.

“Shit!” Lance steers Blue to the left and the beam shoots past him. The feelings of fear start to tickle his mind again but he reminds himself that it’s just one ship. He reminds himself that he’s fought hundreds before and that he can’t turn back now and that Keith’s life depends on him.

Blue surges forward and smashes into the fighter, throwing Lance off balance and absolutely destroying the tiny ship. Lance speeds past it right before it explodes, eyes trained ahead. A piece of debris streaks across his vision.

In the distance a large ship comes into view. Lance is momentarily surprised to see only a few fighters accompanied it before he realizes that it’s part of the Galra’s trap, to make the paladins let down their guard. Lance wants to laugh at how ridiculous it is. If he figured it out, it would never manage to fool Shiro or Allura. There’s probably dozens of fighters in the ship’s hangar just waiting for the lions.

What would help is if Lance’s lion had a cloaking device like Pidge’s. He’ll be spotted before he can even get close to the ship. Even if he does get in, Blue could be stolen as soon as he leaves her.

Then an idea hits Lance and he smirks. “Let’s hope this works, Blue.”

-

A small group of about six fighters hover around the main ship. Lance watches from a distance, looking out for another stray vessel like the one that had attacked him before. He wishes he’d thought of the plan before completely wrecking it, though it was pretty cool when it exploded. No, focus.

Finally, one of the fighters strays from the group. It’s approaching Lance, probably seeing Blue from a distance and wondering what the hell she is. _Perfect_ , he thinks. He runs through his idea in his head a second time, making sure Blue understands him.

Lance turns Blue around, distancing himself from the large ship and effectively leading the stray fighter away from the others. He stops and looks back at it. It gets closer and closer and suddenly it too stops. Then, just as expected, it blasts a laser at him. Blue dodges and charges it, but Lance’s intention isn’t to destroy it. He lets the fighter come closer, gun assailing his lion.

He closes his helmet and stands from his pilot’s chair. The fighter is right below Blue now

“I’m ready.” Lance says, and Blue opens her mouth, spitting him out of the cockpit.

He lands on the hood of the fighter, stumbling slightly. He frantically searches for a door before the pilot turns his attention on him and luckily spies a small hatch not far away. Blue keeps the fighter occupied while he hurries over to it. For once, he wishes he had Keith’s sword so he could just slice a hole to get in, like when they were on the Balmera. A pang of anxiety enters his chest at the thought of the red paladin.

Again, Lance will just have to use what he has. He activates his own Bayard and points it at the hatch. A sword may be able to do a cleaner job, but a few blasts from any old laser gun work just as well. He shoots at the hatch several times, dents forming the metal by each shot. Soon it’s loose enough that Lance jabs his foot down on it and it falls. He jumps down after, pointing his gun at the pilot.

“Hands up, you purple bastard!” Lance shouts, and if this were any other situation, one where he’s not trying to rescue his close-to-dead teammate, he’d laugh at his own pseudo movie-line. The Galra whips around, grabbing a gun attached to his belt. His lips curl into a cruel smirk.

“Prepare to die.” He spits, raising his weapon and shooting a few blasts in Lance’s direction. The blue paladin stumbles out of the way, shooting back at the pilot. Adrenaline pumps through his veins. This is so _easy_.

Then the Galra forfeits his gun and pulls a knife, and Lance finds himself reconsidering his thought process for the umpteenth time this night. If only he had Keith’s sword. If only he had _Keith_.

“Fuck!” He exclaims, jerked out of his mind by the slash of a blade right in his face. He activates his shield and shoves his attacker back. The Galra is taken by surprise and Lance grasps the opportunity to shoot him in the chest. When he stumbles back, the blue paladin takes another shot at his head.

The Galra collapses, and Lance steps over him, deactivating his Bayard.

The controls of the fighter aren’t hard to figure out. Lance settles in the uncomfortable pilot seat and through the window, Blue waits for him to give her a signal. He takes a deep breath, steadies himself, and nods once.

His lion flies past him, towards the Galran ship. He watches, anxious, as she speeds into the group of fighters. They all start to shoot, but Blue is faster and weaves through them expertly. Just as planned, the fighters follow her away from the ship. Lance has his chance before they give up and go back. Or capture her. His blood runs cold.

Blue knows what she’s doing, he reminds himself. His main priority now is Keith.

Lance flies towards the Galra ship, staying cautious and alert. He’ll have to take a guess of where the hangar is. Then he can sneak aboard the ship. After that, well… that’s as far as the plan goes and his instincts will have to take over.

He was never good with following his instincts, no. That’s always been Keith.

_Stop._

Lance follows his emotions.

-

With minor difficulty, Lance maneuvers the fighter in the Galran ship’s hangar. As expected, the area is filled with fighters, but thankfully there aren’t very many soldiers in sight. He lands in the back so no one will pay him any mind. Lance climbs out of the fighter and easily slips away and into a hallway.

Here’s where it’ll get really tricky. Lance is prepared for numerous encounters that’ll without a doubt be much harder than taking down that pilot back there. He has a few syringes filled with the healing agent he stole from the castle’s storage tucked in his belt, just in case he gets injured. He’ll definitely get injured.

Lance presses close to the wall, watching for shadows before he turns the corner. Faint voices come from up ahead but it’s obvious he hasn’t been detected yet.

As he creeps down the hallway, the conversation becomes clearer. Lance holds his breath and listens.

“I’m surprised the paladin isn’t dead yet.”

“In time, we will break him. He can’t hold out forever.”

They’re talking about Keith. Lance has to hold himself back from jumping out and trying to gun down the soldiers. If he wants to beat an entire ship, he’s going to need the element of surprise. That, and a fuck-ton of faith. _Great Gorzlaap of the star-system nepo-2a, if you can hear my prayers._

The footsteps of the two Galra fade after a minute and Lance lets out a deep breath. He activates his Bayard, just in case, and waits until they’re farther away to follow them. If they were talking about Keith, they might know where he’s held. Lance will have to go on his guesses.

“Is someone there?” A voice comes from behind him. Lance gasps, completely thrown off guard. He turns around right as another Galra comes into view.

He takes one look at Lance and snarls, showing a set of sharp teeth.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck_ , Lance thinks, scrambling to raise his Bayard up and aim it. The soldier in front of him yells for backup and pulls a gun from his belt, much like the one possessed by the fighter pilot Lance had killed. That hadn’t been a hard fight, but there’s a difference between a fighter with one Galra on it and a transport ship with, like, fifty.

Luckily, the soldier has storm-trooper aim, and Lance dodges easily. He puts his shield up, blocking more shots. The Galra isn’t even coming towards him, he’s just standing there with his gun, looking at something behind Lance and oh no-

Something sharp jabs him right between the shoulder blades and Lance is suddenly can’t move a muscle. His Bayard falls out of his grip, and he’s shoved onto the floor. A foot slams down on his neck and he chokes.

“Bring him to commander Zorlak.” Lance tries to fight back but it’s like he was paralyzed. Oh quiznak, he _was_ paralyzed. Tasers exist in space too.

The foot is removed and replaced by a rough hand. “Come on, paladin.” Lance grunts as his wrists are cuffed behind his back. He feels tears sting the corners of his eyes, from pain or emotion he doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter, he’s lost. None of his teammates are with him, _how could I be so stupid._

Now Voltron is two paladins down. If Lance could exchange himself for Keith, he would.

One Galra soldier drags hims backwards by the collar of his armor. The other walks behind, weapon pointed at Lance.

Suddenly Lance’s visions whites out. His first thought is that he’s dead, until familiar glowing, blue eyes appear in his mind. “My paladin, don’t give up.” Comes his lion’s voice. Lance didn’t know they could communicate from so far away. “It’s not over. Feel my strength and fight back.” Lance sucks in a sharp breath and his lion fades from his mind again. Feeling starts to come back to his limbs.

Lance’s vision returns and he thrashes forward and out of the Galra’s grasp. His cuffs snap, surprising even him. The Galra in front of him takes a few steps back, lifting his gun to fire but Lance is quick. He ducks down and the shot hits the soldier behind him, causing him to shout and stumble. Lance takes the chance to pick up his Bayard again and activates it.

With his weapon back in his hand and the strength of his lion the blue paladin’s fear fades into a faint spark. It’s just enough to keep him going without overtaking him.

One soldier is already down, having taken a shot in the stomach by the other. The second Galra has a fearful expression and starts to back away from Lance. Before Lance can do anything he turns and runs. The blue paladin doesn’t follow, after all he doesn’t want to go looking for another fight. That’s something Keith would do.

Lance collects his breath, and is about to deactivate his Bayard.

A crushing grip suddenly catches Lance’s legs. He gasps and looks down at the wounded Galra, ready to shoot his gun. But the first thing he sees when he turns his head is a knife being slashed across his thigh.

It happens so fast.

Lance screams. He collapses onto his knees and clutches the wound. The Galra hauls himself up and shoots a hand out to slam Lance to the ground again. His other hand holds the knife down over the blue paladin’s chest.

Lance tries to shove him away and screams louder when the Galra shoves his knee against his wound. The knife is raised.

Lance wants to shut his eyes and pretend it isn’t real, that he’s about to die. When he had nightmares as a kid he’d just squeeze his eyes shut and wake up in his soft, warm bed.

So he closes his eyes.

The next thing he knows, he’s curled up next to the wall, panting heavily. In his hand is his gun. A few feet away, the Galra lies perfectly still. His eyes, glossy and devoid of light, stare right at Lance.

With a horrified noise, Lance pushes himself up, slipping a few times before he can really stand. He turns, not wanting to look at the scene any longer, and stumbles down the hall as fast as he can go.  His leg bleeds profusely. Thankfully his adrenaline is taking over his pain sensors momentarily.

_I still won’t be able to fight in this condition._

Lance groans, faltering in his step. He needs to find a place to hide quickly. The sound of running footsteps assures him that Galra soldiers are looking for him, and it’s definitely more than two.

Lance limps into a small corridor. Frantically looking around, he spots a small vent and relief floods him. He hurries over to it, dropping down onto his good knee. With his Bayard, Lance manages to loosen the vent cover and force it partly off before crawling into the opening. He closes it behind him.

The vent shaft is cramped and dark but Lance is thankful for the hiding place. He curls up again the wall and points his weapon at the grate cover. The voices and footsteps of the Galran soldiers pass him and eventually fade.

The Galra aren’t stupid, Lance knows, and will soon will come back for him. He needs to heal himself before they do. Illuminated by only the faint blue light of his Bayard and the stripes of light coming through the grate, Lance pulls what he needs from his pockets. A syringe full of the strange Altean healing property and a thick needle.

Lance was never a fan of needles. He remembers, in a fond yet sad and terribly ill-timed way, the day he visited the doctor when he was seven for a flu shot and ended up hiding underneath the receptionist’s desk for half an hour. He cried when he got the shot, but afterwards his big sister had Adriana taken him out for ice cream.

The needle slips out of his shaking hands a couple times before Lance is able to attach it to the syringe. He braces his hand on his thigh, whimpering softly at the contact, and stabs the needle into his muscle.

Lance bites his hand to stop himself from yelling again. The pain is awful, almost as bad as the injury itself, but he keeps the needle in and depresses the syringe until all the liquid is gone. By the time he pulls it out he’s quaking violently and his vision is somewhat blurred. He can’t bear to think that he’s going to have to put Keith through the same thing.

When the pain turns to a dull throbbing sensation and Lance gathers himself he grabs his Bayard and crawls further down the vent shaft. He figures it’s a better bet than going back out into the hallway. He shoves the used medical supplies back into his pockets so the Galra don’t find them and follow him.

Lance turns right at a junction, since the other way is giving off heat waves. It’s probably connected to the engine room or something.

He stops.

The engine room.

Lance scoots back and starts down the left way. The heat isn’t painful but it still makes him uncomfortable, sweat starting to gather under his suit. But if it does lead to the engine room, he could theoretically shut down the ship. That is, if he can figure out how. He’s no engineer.

“It really sucks not to have my teammates with me.” Lance mutters to himself with a sad chuckle. “Not that I’ll learn my lesson or anything.”

Lance stops when he sees light filtering through another grate on the side of the vent. Multiple voices come from whatever room he’s next to and he scooches forwards a bit to peer out of the grate. A few dozen Galra soldiers are all seated at various tables, polishing weapons and talking. There’s too many conversations to make out.

Moving past cautiously, Lance continues on towards what he hopes is the engine room. His knees are starting to get sore from crawling on the hard, metal surface.

At last, he spies a third grate at the dead end in front of him. He hurries over and inspects it. The slits are too small to be able to see out of, only steam and metal walls being visible. It’s loose, thankfully. Lance briefly wonders if the Galra buy all their screwdrivers from the dollar store before he pries open the grate, tossing it behind him into the vent.

Peering out of the vent opening, Lance sees that’s he fairly high up off the ground. There’s a stack of crates close enough for him to jump down onto though. Lance pushes his legs through the opening awkwardly, wincing when his injury scrapes the side, and sort of slips down onto the crates. He lands with his good leg so as to not hurt himself more but ends up losing balance and toppling off the stack. Lance hits the floor with a yelp.

Lance curses under his breath, struggling to get onto his feet. It’s oppressively hot now, and the heat waves distort objects in his vision. He looks around, realizing that he has no idea what to do now.

Lance crumples back onto the floor, whimpering when he falls on his bad leg. Despite his cheeks not having dried yet more tears well up in his eyes. Hopeless.

“Keith…” Lance whispers to himself, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He screws his eyes shut and sniffles.

“But.” He says with more force than he means too. “I will get you out of here. Even if I don’t leave, you’ll be okay. I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

Lance wipes his eyes and starts looking around the room. He stays in his uncomfortable sitting position, recognizing that if he tries to stand again he might just have another fucking breakdown.

Giant engines dominate the room, pumping out steam and creating loud whirring sounds. Lance wishes he knew more about machinery. He wishes a lot of things.

Something sparks and pops, startling Lance. When he narrows his eyes and looks closer, he spies a wire hanging out of a loose panel on one engine. Its edges are frayed, and small bursts of electricity fizzle off of it.

Lance actually laughs.

He half-crawls, half-drags himself over to the machine. Cautiously, Lance grabs the wire, at the rubber part of course, and tugs. It stays put, confirming that it is indeed attached to the inside of the machine.

His eyes travel down to a puddle of blackish liquid.

A plan forms.

Lance finally stands up, with some effort. He feels the dull pain in his leg again but grits his teeth and ignores it. The door is on the wall adjacent to where he entered through the vent. Lance is sure the Galra soldiers are nearby, which makes his plan both easier and harder.

Harder because the closer they are, the faster they’ll find him, and the likelier the chance of him getting killed.

Easier because he intends to lead them into a death trap.

Lance forces himself to think, think, _think_. The wires from the machines runs up the walls and crawl across the ceiling. His eyes follow them to a large cluster of wires in the center. _With one shot_ , he thinks, _he could…_

Lance scans the room.

“Jackpot.” He mutters when he spies a few barrels pushed into the corner of the room. He limps over to one and inspects it. The label is in a language he can’t read, but from the symbols, it appears to be oil. Flammable oil.

It’s heavy when he tries to move it. He curses under his breath a few times and tries rolling the barrel instead. It still doesn’t work. Lance says fuck it and pries the lid off. He tosses it to the side and it lands somewhere with a metallic clanging sound.

Lance pushes the barrel, grunting when it resists, but manages to tip it over. It hits the floor with force. Thick, black liquid sloshes out like blood from a knife would, covering the floor and pooling around Lance’s feet. He wrinkles his nose at the acrid smell.

The blue paladin turns to do the same to another barrel when he hears the loud pounding of footsteps outside the door. _Too late,_ he thinks, _this’ll have to be good enough._

Frantically, Lance runs back to where he entered the room, almost slipping on the oiled floor, and starts climbing back up towards the vent.

The door bursts open and many, many Galra rush into the giant room, weapons drawn. Confusion is evident on their faces but when one points to Lance and shouts “there!” their expressions turn vicious.

Lance never gives them the opportunity. He hoists himself up at the top of the stack of crates. Activating his Bayard, he aims it at the central mass of wires on the ceiling. With a single shot, it comes apart and the metallic pieces fall down, down, and into the pool of oil.

The floor ignites.

Lance throws himself into the vent, scrambling to escape the flames engulfing the room. Heat licks at his heels but he manages to crawl back the way he came and wrench the cover off of where he entered the vents in the first place.

The blue paladin wheezes, sweat plastered to every inch of his body.

“I can’t believe I just did that.” He says breathlessly. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

Quickly shaking his head, the blue paladin remembers his mission and starts down the hall. The interior of the ship looks the same everywhere and Lance wishes he knew where the prison cells might be. He’ll have to stumble upon it eventually, right?

Turning the corner, Lance recoils.

It’s the hallway where he’d fought the Galra soldier who’d stabbed him. His body is still right where Lance has left it, staring at nothing with glassy, lifeless eyes.

The blue paladin turns and goes the other way.

-

Lance wanders the ship, bloody and bruised and paranoid, for nearly half an hour before he finds a corridor. It’s larger and darker than the rest. Astoundingly, it’s not guarded, but Lance won’t count that as a blessing, not yet. He’ll celebrate when Keith is safe and in his arms.

Tightening his fingers around the handle of his Bayard, Lance walks into the corridor. His path is illuminated only by the pulsing, purple lights on the walls. He wants to run, but his legs move slowly despite his wishes. The rational part of his mind is telling him that he’s walking into a trap.

He reaches a large door, and Lance knows he’s seen it before on other Galran ships. It leads to the prisons. To Keith. Before Lance even touches it, it parts in the middle with a soft hiss, and slides open.

Narrowing his eyes, Lance continues through. Someone is already here, waiting for him.

“I’m ready.” Lance volunteers to the silence. “Come at me.” He embellishes his challenge with a smirk and a proud raise of his arms. His blood roars loudly in his ears, pumping fast where it’s not dripping out from his wounds.

“You’re brave, paladin.” Lance snaps his head towards the voice but sees no one. “Certainly clever. But, you still fell into our trap.”

The blue paladin snorts. “Do you guys always have to give some lame-ass speech before you fight or can we get on with me kicking your furry ass?”

A dark chuckle. Lance whirls around again, raising his gun to the figure in front of him.

“You may have taken out my crew, but I assure you I am no weakling.” The Galra is tall, with a scarred face and sharp teeth that show from his sickening grin. He looks just as he did in the video transmission, but seeing him up close and personal strikes a sliver of fear into Lance’s heart. Against his will, he takes a step back. The Galra only follows. “I’ll crush you like the pathetic, little thing you are.”

Then Lance sees the arm. It’s Galra tech, but looks different from Shiro’s. The blue paladin remembers another Galra with a similar appendage, one whom he’d heroically shot after emerging from a coma.

And in its hand are a red helmet and a Bayard.

“I’m gonna fuck you up for hurting him.” Lance warns, not letting his fear reach his voice.

The Galra grins. Out of the corner of his eye, Lance notices the smallest hint of movement in his tech arm.

When it detaches from the Galra’s body Lance narrowly dodges being knocked out. He throws himself out of the way and stumbles onto the floor.

“You have good reflexes, I’ll give you that!” The Galra barks out laughter. His arm is back at his side and then in an instant, coming back towards Lance.

 Lance doesn’t dodge it again. The metal appendage socks him right in the chest, knocking him on his back. He grunts and struggles to get up. Lance realizes, despairingly, that he lost his Bayard somewhere along the way.

“Fuck me.” He says, and tries a different approach.

And then when the Galra swings at him again, Lance ends up with the giant metal arm in his hold. It takes, again, one shot and he’s won.

And the Galra stares, stunned because as soon as he tried to fight this young, beaten-down paladin, his arm is on the ground and the boy is coming at him. And then he’s swinging.

And then the Galra is on the ground, hands cuffed behind his back and pride demolished.

And time slows again, and Lance can’t believe he’s still alive. Adrenaline, Adrenaline, Adrenaline. He laughs and shakes his head. “That was too easy, you really need to step up your game.

The Galra coughs, eyes narrowed. “What are you planning to do now, paladin, kill me?”

Lance lowers his Bayard. “No.”

“So what, then?” Amusement fills the Galra’s laugh. “You’re preaching morality now? After killing my crew?”

“God, would you shut up? This isn’t about morality.” The blue paladin growls, and he’s switching between humor and seriousness. “I won’t give you the pleasure of death. You’re going to sit here, knowing you achieved neither success nor death, until Zarkon finds your ship.” He thinks for a second, and adds, “I hope you learned never to mess with the paladins of Voltron again.”

The Galra isn’t given a chance to respond. Lance knocks the barrel of his gun against his temple, much harder than he had with Coran, and the Galra is out cold.

That’s becoming his new favorite move.

Lance turns, the dirtied red helmet and the red Bayard tucked under his arm, and runs to the cells.

“Keith?” He calls.

From inside a cell, he hears a weak cough.

“Thank fuck!” Lance exclaims, running towards his teammate. He sees a crumpled figure in the corner of the cell, dirty and bloody. But, alive.

Lance raises his Bayard and shoots at the lock over and over again until it breaks. Keith is struggling to push himself up, but his arm keeps slipping. Lance is at his side in an instant.

“Keith! Keith, can you hear me?”

Keith lifts his head, and Lance wishes he could say he didn’t flinch. The red paladin’s eyes are still piercing yellow and his skin is purple, furred. But he’s not like them, Lance knows.

“Lance is that… really…” Lance doesn’t wait for Keith to finish his sentence before his scoops him into his arms. Keith makes a choked sound, and Lance remembers his injured arm. He readjusts his grip.

“Lance.” Keith whispers. He sounds delirious. Slowly, one of his hands comes up to grip Lance’s shoulder. “Oh god it’s… it’s really you…”

“Of course it’s me, dumbass. And we have to go, like, now.” Lance places Keith’s helmet on his head and then, cautiously, slides his arms under Keith’s body and picks him up off the ground. The red paladin’s head falls limply against his chest.

“Where are the others?” Keith asks.

“Not here.”

“What?” He’s fixed with a hard glare, that isn’t very intimidating since Keith can barely keep his eyes open.

“Look, I’ll explain it later, right now we really need to leave!” Lance checks to make sure Keith isn’t openly bleeding anywhere before running out of the cell.

-

Blue had been there waiting for them.

Keith whimpers softly in as Lance climbs into the cockpit. His eyes are closed but his fingers clasp Lance’s arm tightly. He’s still conscious, thank god.

“Alright, buddy, I just need you to stay awake for a little longer.” Lance assures in a soft tone, slowly setting Keith down in the pilot chair. When he pulls away to fetch the supplies, the red paladin curls in on himself and sobs. Just once.

Lance wishes he could just take away Keith’s pain.

Lance grabs a few clean rags and more of the healing agent. He flinches when he thinks about sticking a needle in his already suffering teammate, but he doesn’t really have a choice. Lance picks up the single blanket he snagged from the castle storage and moves back over to Keith.

When he kneels in front of him and starts removing his paladin armor, Keith barely protests. He just cracks his yellow eyes open.

“Lance…”

“Don’t talk.” Lance tells him, pulling off the chest piece. “Save your energy. I promise you’ll be okay.” He musters a small smile.

To his utter surprise and relief, Keith smiles back at him. It’s an incredibly pained expression, but it’s still there and genuine.

Lance gets to work taking off his under suit next. As he peels away the thin material from Keith’s sweaty, purple-blotched skin, he’s is met with a myriad of bruises and small cuts.

“God…” Lance breathes. There’s a large gash on Keith’s side, nearly identical to the one on his own leg. The blue paladin looks down at the small pile of medical supplies. Now’s the time.

He finishes taking off Keith’s suit, leaving the red paladin in his boxers. The awkward bend of the red paladin’s arm is more obvious now. Lance will probably have to give him an injection there as well.

Lance wipes the blood and grime off Keith’s body tenderly, not wanting to hurt him. Still, Keith grunts and stiffens slightly, his face contracting in unspoken pain.

I’m sorry.” Lance whispers. Keith meets his gaze and doesn’t say anything.

Lance can’t look away from him. He reaches down and blindly gropes for the medical supplies. When he brings them up and starts to fill the syringe with the healing potion, Keith jerks away from him.

“N-no, Lance, you can’t…”

“It’s just a needle, Keith.” The blue paladin says, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You don’t understand- they- they put-” Keith shakes his head, tears starting to fall from the corners of his eyes. “I just can’t-”

Lance gently grabs Keith’s wrist- the one on his good arm- and smooths his thumb over his palm in an effort to calm him. The red paladin stills, and looks at him with wide and fearful eyes.

“Keith.” Lance leans in, touching their noses together. It’s so weirdly intimate for them, but he needs his teammate to relax and it seems this is the only way to get him to do so. “You’ll be okay. This will heal you.”

“Lance…”

“Just.” Lance makes a split decision. He used to sing to his younger siblings to calm them down before bed. “Just listen to the sound of my voice, okay?”

Keith furrows his brow, his mouth forming a questioning o-shape. Before he can say anything, Lance starts to sing in a low voice, the first song that comes to his mind.

_“What would I do without your smart mouth?_

_Drawing me in, and you kicking me out,_

_You've got my head spinning, no kidding, I can't pin you down”_

Lance knows his voice doesn’t sound too good right now, it’s scratchy and wavers, but the sudden look on Keith’s face tells him to keep going.

_“What's going on in that beautiful mind?_

_I'm on your magical mystery ride.”_

Lance poises the needle over the wound on Keith’s side, rubbing reassuring circles on his thigh.

_“And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me, but I'll be alright.”_

As he sings he slowly depresses the needle into Keith’ muscle. The red paladin’s face scrunches up and Lance winces. But Keith doesn’t make a sound, focusing all of his attention on Lance’s eyes and voice. Slowly, his hand comes up to touch the blue paladin’s cheek. Lance’s heart skips a beat.

He moves to Keith’s other injuries and continues singing.

_“My head's under water_

_But I'm breathing fine_

_You're crazy and I'm out of my mind_

_'Cause all of me_

_Loves all of you_

_Love your curves and all your edges_

_All your perfect imperfections_

_Give your all to me_

_I'll give my all to you_

_You're my end and my beginning_

_Even when I lose I'm winning_

_'Cause I give you all of me_

_And you give me all of you, oh, oh_

_How many times do I have to tell you?_

_Even when you're crying you're beautiful too_

_The world is beating you down, I'm around through every mood_

_You're my downfall, you're my muse_

_My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues_

_I can't stop singing, it's ringing, in my head for you_

_My head's under water_

_But I'm breathing fine_

_You're crazy and I'm out of my mind_

_'Cause all of me_

_Loves all of you_

_Love your curves and all your edges_

_All your perfect imperfections_

_Give your all to me_

_I'll give my all to you_

_You're my end and my beginning_

_Even when I lose I'm winning_

_'Cause I give you all of me_

_And you give me all of you, oh, oh_

_Give me all of you_

_Cards on the table, we're both showing hearts_

_Risking it all, though it's hard_

_'Cause all of me_

_Loves all of you_

_Love your curves and all your edges_

_All your perfect imperfections_

_Give your all to me_

_I'll give my all to you_

_You're my end and my beginning_

_Even when I lose I'm winning_

_'Cause I give you all of me_

_And you give me all of you_

_I give you all of me_

_And you give me all of you, oh, oh.”_

Lance’s voice is raw by the time he’s done. Keith breathes evenly now, eyes closed with exhaustion but body no longer in pain.

“Lance.” He whispers.

The blue paladin presses his face gently to Keith’s collarbone. “Yeah?”

“I’m cold.”

With a nod, Lance pulls away from him and picks up the blanket. He spreads it out over his legs and then, with great care, shifts Keith off the pilot’s chair and into his lap. Keith puffs out a short breath.

“Am I hurting you?” Lance asks, wrapping the blanket around the red paladin’s body. Keith looks up at him. The yellow in his tired eyes is beginning to fade back into a beautiful cobalt.

“You’re an idiot,” He slurs, and Lance can’t tell that the drugs are starting to mix with his exhaustion, “No, you’re not hurting me. Why are we on the floor?”

“The better to cradle you in my arms.” Lance grins, pulling the corner of the blanket over an exposed area of Keith’s chest.

“Haha. No, I mean why aren’t you flying Blue?”

Lance clicks his tongue. “I _might_ have no idea where the castle is because the wormhole _may_ have closed.” At Keith’s panicked expression he quickly adds, “Don’t worry, the comms still work. The others will contact me when they wake up.”

“Of course.” Keith mumbles. “The… the others…”

Lance narrows his eyes. “Something wrong?” Keith bites his lip and curls closer to Lance’s chest.

“They’re going to hate me now.”

“What? Keith, they’re your teammates, and your friends.”

“But I’m…” Keith closes his eyes. He continues in a strained voice. “A Galra…”

“Hey.” Lance interrupts him. “No one is going to care. You’re you, you’re Keith.” For the second time, he leans forward and touches their noses together. Keith’s mouth curves into a small smile and he finally allows himself to relax against Lance.

It’s at this moment, as Lance cradles his half-conscious teammate gently in his lap, that he has another idea. Out of all his ideas so far it might either be the best or the worst. He won’t know until he tries it.

Gingerly, Lance slips his fingers between the ones on Keith’s good arm. He slowly brings the hand up to his face, watching the red paladin for any reaction. Keith’s eyes blink open but he doesn’t pull away or ask Lance what he’s doing.

Lance doesn’t hesitate to press his lips to the tip of each of Keith’s fingers, all caked with dried blood but so in need of gentleness.

Keith lets out a nervous chuckle and curls his fingers around Lance's. "What are you doing?

“Hm?” Lance murmurs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He continues trailing small kisses, over Keith’s knuckles and down to his wrist. A shaky breath escapes the red paladin.

“Lance.” It’s a statement.

Lowering Keith’s arm, Lance grins down at him. “You should probably go to sleep now.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine, mullet. The others will come get us soon.”

Keith nods. He seems to hesitate before cautiously asking, “Will you sing to me again?”

Lance eyes widen just a bit. If this were any other time he’d tease Keith for wanting to hear him sing. But this moment is intimate and soft and Lance won’t ruin it. Despite knowing how weak and raspy his voice is at this point, He again begins singing softly.

Keith’s eyes flutter closed and, lulled by Lance’s calming voice, he drifts off to sleep.

Lance got him back. He’s never letting Keith go again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope the fighting scenes weren't too repetitive. anyways, this might take me a whole month to update again but i'll try to update sooner. i'm new to multi-chaptered fics so bear with me!!  
> tumblr is bipolarred, come talk to me abt klance ;)  
> (aaaaalso, if i made a spelling mistake don't hesitate to tell me)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me nearly two months to update and i'm really sorry! I'll admit I completely lost passion in this fic, which is a really sucky feeling. This last chapter is just the falling action, the conclusion to the story.  
> However, I have another fic i'm currently working on! I've learned that I should write multiple chapters before posting a fic so I can update much quicker. This fic was more of an experiment/practice?  
> Anyways, enjoy this short, final update. My tumblr is bipolarred

“Lance!”

Lance wakes with a jolt, looking around the blue lion’s cockpit. Keith is still asleep, curled up against his chest and drooling. Gross.

“Lance!” The voice yells again. It belongs to Allura, coming through his communicator. The helmet sits on the floor next to his foot.

“I’m here.” He responds.

Hunk’s voice cuts in. “Where the quiznak are you, man?!” His words, fuzzy in Lance’s ears, crackle at the edges.

Too delirious and relieved to act serious, Lance barks out laughter. “Somewhere in space!”

“Are you alright?” Shiro demands. The blue paladin ignores his question.

“I got him.” He says.

There’s a pause.

“What?”

“I got Keith. He’s here, he’s safe.” Lance brushes a few strands of hair out of the red the paladin’s sleeping face.

“How did you-” Pidge starts, but Allura cuts her off.

“Stay put, I’m tracking your lion. We’re coming to get you right now.”

“Good deal.” Lance says drowsily, grinning to himself.

-

Lance leans his forehead against the cold, blue glass. It’s a little disconcerting how lifeless Keith looks, but also hard to look away from.

“How soon?” He asks, for the third time in that last hour. Coran doesn’t seem to mind. From behind Lance, he makes a contemplating sound, before cheerily answering, “Should be only a few more.”

Lance sighs. “Is he gonna be okay?” He rips his eyes away from Keith and turns around.

“There’s no reason why he shouldn’t be.”

Lance nods. He hasn’t got a chance to sleep since he got back to the castle. Keith had been whisked away to the medical bay while Lance got a slap from Pidge, followed by a hug and then four more. Allura’s had been particularly long, not that Lance was complaining.

“Lance, you’re spacing out a bit.”

Lance snaps his gaze up from where it had dropped to the floor. “Sorry.”

Coran gives him a sympathetic smile and holds his arms out. The blue paladin steps into the hug willingly and remembers the way his mother used to embrace him.

When they pull away, Coran keeps a reassuring hand on Lance’s shoulder. “You are very brave.”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Lance says with a small smile, “Bravest paladin there is.”

Coran chuckles. “Well, paladins still need their sleep, so I suggest you go back to your room.

“But, Keith-”

“I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Lance smiles. “Thanks Coran. And, uhm, sorry for knocking you out.”

“Ah, it’s no worry! Got a thick skull, you see?” Coran taps the size of his head for emphasis.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Lance says. He throws a “goodnight” at Coran and walks towards the door.

In the doorway, Lance pauses, and looks back.

“Come get me when he wakes up.”

“Of course.”

-

“Lance, he’s awake!”

Lance throws his covers off, bumping his head when he tries to sit up. He scrambles out of bed and follows Pidge out of his room.

The first thing Lance sees when they get to the med bay is Keith leaning on one of the cryopods, and Shiro with a confused expression and his hands up.

“Keith?” Lance says carefully. The red paladin flinches and jerks his gaze over to him. His wide eyes flit over Lance briefly. Lance is reminded that he’s only in his boxers, but he doesn’t have the time to feel self-conscious about the scars on his chest.

“Keith,” he repeats, taking a few strides towards him, “You’re safe now, you’re back in the castle. It’s okay.”

Slowly, Keith withdraws his hands from the cryopod and stands up straight. He looks at Shiro again, who hasn’t moved.

“I’m sorry, I… freaked out.” He whispers.

“I know.” Lance says. “It’s okay.”

Keith ducks his head and hurries over to Lance. The blue paladin holds out his arms and staggers a bit when Keith crashes into him full force.

“Whoa, Keith-”

Keith presses his face into Lance’s shoulder and makes a small sound.

A soft “dude,” comes from behind them and Lance cranes his neck around to see Hunk giving him a surprised look. Beside him, Allura has her chin rested on her hand in ponderation.

Lance sucks in a shake breath and looks back at Keith. The red paladin says nothing but Lance can feel his body rack with tiny sobs. Slowly he brings his hand up to Keith’s hair and combs it through. His hair is dirty and slightly matted from his brief time in captivity.

“Keith,” He whispers, “Talk to me.”

Keith shakes his head.

Shiro walks over to them, his eyebrows furrowed. “Lance, let me try and talk to him, maybe I can-”

“Don’t.” Keith says.

Hurt flashes on Shiro’s face for a moment before he steels himself and looks down. “Lance, you should take Keith back to his room. Help him change clothes and make sure he gets some rest.”

“What?” Pidge speaks finally, “Why Lance? I want to help Keith too.”

“He needs to be given some space right now.” Shiro says, voice gentle but firm. Lance doesn’t know what Keith went through on the Galra ship, but Shiro does.

“Hey.” He says softly, pressing his nose into Keith’s hair. “It’s okay. Let’s go back to your room, okay?” Keith nods, slumping against Lance.

-

“Why won’t you talk to Shiro?” Lance asks softly, hands folded in his lap. “He’s like your brother.”

Keith fidgets with the sleeve of Lance’s blue shirt. Lance had insisted he wear it for optimal comfort. “I just can’t.” Keith mumbles. He opens his mouth to say something else, but closes it again and stays quiet.

“No one cares that you’re- what you are. We’re just glad you’re safe, Keith.”

The red paladin looks up at him. His eyes are wide and Lance can’t find any trace in them of the asshole from the Garrison he used to bicker with. Then, Keith crawls forward to where Lance is seated on the edge of the bed, and curls up next to his side.

“Oh, uh.” Lance stammers. “Buddy?”

“Just- shut up for a moment.”

Lance presses his lips into a thin line and lifts an arm to wrap around Keith’s torso. The red paladin says nothing.

“This is... odd.” Lance comments, unable to be silent.

A sigh from the boy beside him. “Yeah.”

They stay like that for a while.

-

As soon as Lance enters the kitchen, Pidge and Hunk pounce both pounce on him, questions flying out of their mouth like Galran fighters.

“Slow down, guys!” Lance exclaims, “I can’t understand what either of you are saying.”

“Is he alright?” Hunk asks, gripping Lance’s shoulders. “When is he gonna talk to us, man?”

“I don’t know, you guys.”

Hunk frowns and pulls away. There’s a long pause before he speaks again. “He knows we don’t care, right? It doesn’t matter what he is, he’s still our buddy.” Pidge nods slowly in agreement, both of them looking at Lance with wide eyes.

“I think he just needs some time.” Lance answers, his voice soft.

Pidge looks at the ground, biting her lip as if she were about to cry.

“Hey,” Lance says, “It’ll be alright, he’s safe. At least… at least he’s safe.”

He reaches out and takes the hands of his friends. They look at him.

“We’re all here for each other, right?”

“Right.”

“Right.”

-

An hour later, Lance finds Shiro in the control room. The black paladin is sitting on the steps, hunched over his knees and not making a sound. Lance doesn’t know if he should say anything. He walks over and plops down next to Shiro.

When he reaches out to touch his shoulder, Shiro flinches away and.

“I’m okay.” He says, if on instinct. He doesn’t lift his head.

“You don’t have to pretend.” It feels strange, being the one to comfort Shiro, who’s nine years older than him.

Shiro turns his head to Lance. His cheeks are dry but his eyes water with the beginnings of tears.

Lance holds his arms out to offer a hug, the same way Coran had to him. Shiro chuckles, a bit sad, and gives Lance an awkward side hug.

“Don’t feel like you have to be everyone’s therapist right now.” Shiro says when they pull away. “I know it was a bad experience for you, facing the Galra alone.”

Lance’s hand feel fidgety. He sits on them. “I just want everyone to be okay.”

Shiro smiles and puts a hand on his shoulder. “That’s admirable. Start with Keith, at least for a couple days. The sooner he’s happy, the sooner we all are. He’s putting a lot of trust in you.”

Something about the black paladin’s words make Lance blush. “Yes, sir.” He says awkwardly. Shiro shakes his head at Lance’s response and stands up slowly. He extends his hand to Lance, who takes it and allows Shiro to pull him up.

“I’m proud of you.” Shiro says.

Lance smiles. “Thank you. I’ll make sure Keith feels better in no time.”

-

The task proves just a little bit harder than he thought it would be. Keith doesn’t leave Lance’s bed the entire day after waking up from the healing pod. It’s disconcerting watching him sleep, instead of sharpening his knife or something.

At around what Lance assumes would be seven in the evening, a rough estimate based on the clocked light system in the castle, he finally hears the covers shifting and bare feet hit the floor. Lance turns from where he’s seated at his desk and looks at Keith.

The red paladin stares back at him. After a moment, he says, “I feel gross.”

Lance frowns. “Keith, it’s not your fault that you’re Galra. You don’t have to-”

Keith interrupts him with a breathy chuckle. “No, I mean physically. I haven’t washed my hair in a few days. Or anything, really.” He looks down and rubs at his arm.

“Ah, shit.” Lance gets up quickly. “I should have ran you a shower or something before you went to sleep.”

“Uhm, that’s okay.” The red paladin picks at some acne on his neck. “I’ll just go take one now.”

“I’ll help you.”

Keith quirks an eyebrow. “You’ll help me? What does that mean?”

Lance blushes. “No, I mean like- I’ll wash your hair for you.”

Keith stares at him.

“If you want.” Lance adds. The romantic tension in the room is suffocating, and he wonders if Keith can feel it too.

The red paladin finally responds, with a small nod. “Okay.”

They don’t talk as the two leave the room. Keith stares at the floor, Lance casting sideways glances at him and hoping he’s being subtle. Their hands brush for a moment.

When they reach one of the castle’s extravagant bathrooms, Lance starts looking through the shelves for choice hair products while Keith draws the bath water. He knows which ones are the best, having used them before, and decides on one that smells similar to lavender, and another that smells like pine. Hopefully Keith doesn’t mind.

Lance hears the water stop, then the shifting of fabric as Keith undresses. He waits until the red paladin steps into the bath with a small splashing sound.

“Can I turn around now?” He asks.

“Yeah.”

With the bottles in his hand, Lance turns and walks over to the bathtub. Keith is faced away from him, and again Lance is shaken by how much trust Keith is putting in him. His neck and bare back are exposed, it would be easy to strike him.

Lance would never do something like that to Keith.

Gently, he places a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Alright, close your eyes.”

“Mkay.” Keith murmurs, tilting his head back slightly. Lance scoops up water and pours it over Keith’s head, wetting his hair. He does it a couple more times before opening up the bottle of Altean shampoo and squeezing a bit onto his hand. It seems to glow faintly.

“Do you like lavender?”

“I don’t mind it.”

Lance rubs his hands together, then starts to run them through Keith’s hair. He rubs the shampoo thoroughly into the scalp, and the red paladin lets out a breathy sound. Lance stops.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?”

Keith shakes his head. “No, it feels good. It’s a nice- pressure calms me down, I- I guess.”

“So like, it’s a stim thing?”

“Yeah.”

Lance smiles to himself. He again douses Keith’s head with water to wash the shampoo out. With the conditioner on his hands, he tousles his hair gently.

“Alright, now it has to sit for like, a little while.”

“Why?”

“So it can set it and make your hair soft, silly.”

Keith chuckles. “Did you just call me ‘silly?’?”

“Don’t make fun of me, Kogane. I have a million more receipts on you than you do, on me.”

“That- that’s probably true.” The red paladin mumbles, sinking further down into the water.

Lance chuckles.

-

“Feeling a bit better now?”

Keith and Lance walk through the hallway once again, this time with small droplets of water trailing behind Keith as they fall from his damp hair. He doesn’t like it blow-dried, Lance found out.

“Yeah. Cleaner.”

“That’s good.”

They reach Lance’s room, and Keith looks sideways at him. It seems like he’s going to ask something, but Lance lets the door slide open and motions for the red paladin to enter, and he goes in without speaking.

“You should sleep with me.” Lance suggests.

Keith looks at him like he can’t tell if the taller boy is being serious. “Are you sure?”

“I mean, you slept in it for almost six hours already, it can’t smell any worse.”

The grin that grows on Keith’s face sparks a good feeling in Lance’s chest.

They fall asleep with their backs pressed together, Keith facing the wall and Lance daring any Galra soldiers to come through his door and try to take him again.

-

Lance assures Keith that no one else is going to be up at this hour, when the lights are still dim and you can hear Allura’s surprisingly loud snoring from all the way down the hall.

But as they enter the kitchen for a small breakfast, Lance makes a mental note once again that Pidge never sleeps. She sits at the table in nothing but sweatpants, holding an Altean tablet inches from her eyes. That amount of light exposure is only going to make her blinder.

When Keith sees the green paladin, he stops and tugs on Lance’s sleeve in a silent plea. Lance ignores him.

“Hey, Pidge.” From behind him, Keith hums in protest. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

Pidge starts, dropping the tablet onto the table as she whips her head around.

“Keith!” She practically shouts, pushing herself out of the chair and running straight for the red paladin. Lance steps back as she stops right in front of him and crosses her arms.

Pidge stands there silently and stares before mumbling, “You better not start ignoring me or something.”

“Of course not.” Keith says.

Pidge pulls the taller paladin into a hug. “Don’t think you can skip training again tomorrow.”

“Pidge, don’t be-” Lance starts, but is cut off by Keith’s short laugh. He pulls away from Pidge’s embrace a second later.

“Are you going to be okay?” She asks.

“I think so, yeah.” Keith says. He glances at Lance.

“Didn’t we come here for breakfast or something? Not to be attacked by a gremlin.” Pidge shoves Lance at his words, and soon the three of them are laughing.

They stay in the kitchen until the others wake up. Lance explains to everyone that Keith had just needed some rest and a bath, and then the red paladin is being given even more hugs. No one mentions the Galra thing, and he seems thankful for that.

-

Lance awakes to the deafening sound of an alarm and the feeling of limbs tangled in his. He pushes away from Keith, who’s already sitting up and grabbing his knife from where it rests under the pillow. If this were a different situation, Lance would chew him out for putting a weapon in his bed, but that’s the least of their worries right now.

Lance catches Keith wrist and they’re both stumbling out of bed. Purple eyes look into his.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Keith takes a deep breath. “It’s been a week, I’ll be okay. You’re here with me, and I can always count on that.”

Lance allows himself a small smile, and then they’re running out of the room and to a battle they can’t predict the outcome of.

-

“Keith?” the first thing Lance says when he’s out of his lion. His clothes are smeared with dirt and adrenaline still pumps through him, but he’s focused on one thing.

The red paladin is climbing out of his own lion’s cockpit. When he hears his name, his eyes lock with Lance’s, and he’s grinning ear to ear.

The two run towards each other, their chestplates clashing when they meet full force in an embrace.

Lance leans down and presses his forehead to Keith’s.

“We did it.”

“We sure did.” Keith says, and tilts his head to the side.

And then they’re kissing.

And then they’re not, but Lance’s lips still tingle and Keith is smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.

They’re broken out of the trance by an awkward cough. Lance turns his head to see Allura standing a few meters away, Coran behind her. “I was… not aware of this.”

“Yeah, what the fuck?” Pidge says, coming over from her lion. Shiro mutters “language, Pidge,” but she ignores him.

“Figures.” Hunk says, brushing a piece of shrapnel off his shoulder from the fighter he blew up (all on his _own_ ).

“You mean, none of you knew?”

All eyes turn to Coran. Keith, tightening his grip on Lance’s waist, glances at him with a confused expression.

Allura narrows her eyes. “How did _you_ know?”

“I just thought it was obvious, what with the way Lance doted on Keith like a mother perylir on her young.” Lance doesn’t understand the reference but he still blushes.

“Aw, were you gushing about me to Coran?” Keith teases.

Lance huffs in embarrassment. “You know what, you can wash your own hair from now on.”

Keith laughs and presses a kiss to his cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is bipolarred!


End file.
